


Tumblr Requests: (See Notes for Pairing and Request)

by vinumxvitae



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, MALE READER INSERT, Multi, Not Every Tag Applies to Every Chapter, Self-Insert, Sex, based on a request, i'm just adding these as i go along, read the request in the notes at the beginning of the chapters bls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-07-28 13:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20064529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinumxvitae/pseuds/vinumxvitae
Summary: Requests I receive on my side blog. Spicy content crafted painstakingly over several margaritas and sleepless nights, purely for your enjoyment. Characters and pairings may vary.





	1. "First Time"

**Author's Note:**

> The request, copied and pasted: Hello, would it be okay to request a first time imagine for any dmc man. The reader is their crush and friend and she is sick of being a virgin and wants to lose her virginity to someone she trusts. Thank you and have a great day :D

You couldn't pinpoint when things changed between you and Dante. It felt like it happened over night -- you woke up one morning and stumbled into the kitchen and instead of your usual banter about Lady's burned coffee, you found yourself locking eyes over the kitchen table. Not just _looking_, either. There was a noticeable tension, something that coiled deep in the pit of your stomach and burned on your cheekbones. 

There were several days of contemplation. You considered it could be just a crush. Surely, you told yourself, it was one-sided. But you could feel his slate-colored eyes boring a hole in your back everywhere you went, his gaze leveling with yours every chance he got. If he caught you, he'd grin, and from there on out your legs might as well have been rubber bands. 

The stolen kisses unraveled you. He'd catch you in the hallway, out of sight and out of mind, and kiss you until you couldn't breathe. His fingers would skim the dip of your lower back or the curve of your ribs, his touch trailing embers along your skin.

All it took was one night alone. One night together with take-out and a movie, sprawled out on the couch in the office just like old times, but the tone was so incredibly different that it was hard to make conversation. 

Halfway through the movie, he reached out to scoot you toward him, draping his heavy arm over your shoulders when you didn't protest. His warmth was like gasoline to a flame; you found yourself squirming against him, wanting desperately to make a move, but there was one major hangup.

There were remote mountain ranges in the far, far corners of the map that were capped with snow less virginal than you. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that if moves were made, if he so much as breathed the right way, neither of you would be able to hit the brakes. Not that you would want to stop in the first place, but it raised several ethical questions in the back of your mind that kept your hands neatly folded in your lap and your eyes fixed on the movie. 

He picked up on your restlessness. You forgot about your objections when he turned your face up to his, flustering you when he brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth.

"If we keep on like this, it's gonna kill me," he said lowly. 

You struggled to slow your breathing, reveling in the heat of his hand beneath your chin. 

"Like what?" you asked, intentionally coy.

Dante didn't answer. He kissed you instead, just once, hesitating to see how you'd react. When you didn't object he kissed you again, softly at first until you were melting against him. 

It didn't take much to have you across his lap as he delved into your mouth feverishly, peppering you with kisses that made you dizzy. You toyed with the hem of his shirt, desperate to touch any bare skin that you could find but his hands creeping up the sides of your thighs gave you pause. He caught your lower lip between his teeth, working a gasp from you as he pulled your hips down tight against his. 

"You're thinking about something waaaay too hard," he said, kissing the soft skin beneath your ear. "What is it?"

"If I tell you, will you promise not to laugh?" you asked.

"I promise. Cross my heart."

You trapped his scruffy face between both hands, forcing him to look you in the eye.

"Promise," you said again.

"You have my word," he insisted. "Is it that bad?"

"I just don't want to be made fun of."

He pulled your hands away from his face, kissing your knuckles. "You know you've always been able to tell me anything."

"So hypothetically, if I were a virgin..."

"This isn't a hypothetical situation, is it?"

You shook your head. His eyebrows shot up, slate-colored eyes suspicious. 

"Look," you huffed. "I literally can't handle it anymore. And I felt like you needed to know before...I dunno, I'm not assuming we were about to--"

"It was definitely headed that direction in my brain," he confirmed. "Safe assumption. But I get it if you aren't comfortable."

"No no, that's not what I mean."

He shifted, nervously accepting a kiss.

"I want you," you continued. "I trust you, Dante. I just wanted to be honest."

"You sure you want me to...?"

You leaned forward, nosing the shell of his ear. "Are you going to make me beg?" you asked softly, shocked by your own bravery. 

"Nope."

He lifted you off the couch with ease, tossing you over his shoulder playfully as he carried you upstairs. Your back hit the bed with a thump and he collapsed in a heap on top of you, both of you laughing, but your lips were already hunting his. 

The first hint of bare skin scrambled any semblance of a train of thought you might have had. You let your hands sweep over him greedily, tracing every little valley and crevice as he kissed burning trails over your neck and collarbones. He made quick but careful work of your clothes and you stripped him of his henley shirt faster than you wanted to admit. 

"I'm gonna need you to roll with me here for a minute," he said, dragging you up to the head of the bed. "Hear me out."

You hummed and nodded, unintentionally bucking up against his hips at the slightest hint of friction. He bit back a gasp and pressed you back down into the bed gently, untangling himself from your legs to lie beside you, but the heavy heat of his cock against your core left you desperate for more even through his jeans. 

"Slow down. We'll get to that," he scolded. "Let me lead a minute, hmm? I just want you to relax."

“I can’t do anything?”

“You can. But just trust me for a minute more. Can I touch you?”

“Of course.”

He let his hand curl beneath your ass, his fingertips barely brushing against your folds. You resisted the urge to grind into his hand, biting back a moan, but his touch would ultimately be the death of you. 

It took one stroke with the pad of his middle finger to have you mewling beneath him. He laughed, kissing the corner of your mouth as you rolled to hitch your leg over his hip. 

"_Sensitive_," he murmured, grinning against your lips. 

He rolled you atop him easily, letting you crumple forward to kiss the slope of his neck desperately. You pressed down into his hand as he drew lazy figure-eights, swirling just around the edges of your core and back up to circle your bud. Each lap only furthered the ache that had settled deep inside you and you nipped at his collarbones, your hands searching for purchase on his smooth skin.

You let out a whine when he hesitated at your entrance, dipping just the tip of his finger inside as if to test you. 

"You know this is gonna be a tight squeeze," he teased, making you hiss when he slipped his finger deeper without warning. "I don't want you to feel like this _has_ to work out the first go 'round."

You couldn't answer with his finger laving at the sweet spot within you, curling forward to hit it just right. Blindly, you fumbled for his belt buckle, settling for palming his hardness through the fabric of his jeans when he batted you away.

There were brief moments of clarity where your brain ran through all the things you wanted so desperately to do to him. He'd slide his finger out of you to tease your clit again, your mind wondering if you could undo his belt fast enough to have his cock in your mouth before he dipped back in again but just the feeling of him skimming your entrance shut down any ideas you had. You couldn't function, all you could think about was how much you wanted _more_ as he explored. 

He drew you into a sloppy kiss with his other hand, his fingers tangled in the back of your hair tightly. You gasped sharply when a second finger pressed into you, stretching you, but the sensation was almost too much to handle. 

"It's so hard not to just flip you over and fuck you through the floorboards," he whispered, forcing a moan from you as his fingers dipped to your deepest. "I know that's what you want."

"That's what I want," you said. The words were almost inaudible. "_God_ that's what I want."

"Come for me first, and then we'll see."

"Dante..."

But your frustration was short lived. In a matter of seconds he had you teetering on the edge, encouraging you with soft whispers in your ear as you ground against the thrust of his fingers. 

You broke with a hard sigh, bucking into his hand as he guided you through the waves of pleasure. The sudden lack of his fingers made you huff but he seemed content with his work, licking the tip of his finger with a grin.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, cupping your ass a little roughly. You let him drag your hips down to his, boneless in your afterglow. "Good? Relaxed?"

"Are you trying to talk me out of this?" 

"Oh hell no. I'm just trying to be...considerate. Can't thread the eye of a needle with a baseball bat."

You'd never disassembled a belt buckle faster and likely never would again. You had it undone so quickly that even he laughed as he worked his jeans off his hips, his cock springing loose of the fabric with a more-than-pleasing bob in front of you. 

Panic washed over you when you realized just exactly what you were getting yourself into. Your hand looked minuscule wrapped around the base of it. Really, you told yourself, it wasn't unrealistically out-of-proportion but you also scolded yourself for expecting anything less from a half-demon.

"Told you," he said simply. 

"You said tight fit, not split me in half."

"You can still say no."

"But I'm not going to."

"Alright, then I'll let you take the lead. Give me your hands."

He helped you steady yourself above him, only letting go to drift over your curves when you were stable. His calloused hands followed the taper of your waist curiously, his eyes on yours, and for a moment you wondered if you would ever see him so vulnerable ever again. There was no facade, no troublemaker smile, just the flush of desire across his face and neck. For the first time ever he had nothing witty to say. 

Carefully, he helped you align yourself over him, his hands curling around your hips loosely. Just the _anticipation_, the feeling of his head against your heat was enough to make you want to keen but you kept your calm as best you could.

"_Slow_," he told you, his fingers digging into your skin when you lowered yourself a bit. "Hey. Don't hold your breath. Breathe out."

You worked yourself onto him at an agonizing pace, trying desperately to focus on the pleasure rather than the the sting of the stretch. He talked you through it until you sank to his hilt; both of you gasped, though you were fascinated with the image of his hips flush against yours. 

You rocked against him tentatively. 

"What do I do...?" you asked, suddenly shy when you realized you'd never considered making it this far. 

"Do you want to switch?"

You nodded. He rolled you onto your back, nipping at your collarbones as he pushed his hips into yours slowly. He smothered your moan with his kisses as he moved again, thrusting in slow, short strokes until he knew you were adjusted. 

"I feel like I didn't..._do_ anything for you," you blurted. 

"I didn't want you to. We can try the sampler platter next time," he said, looping his arms under your legs. Just the movement from him pushing up to his knees made you shudder. "You wanna know the truth?"

"Of course."

He thrust a little deeper, a little harder.

"I wouldn't have made it through you fumbling with a handy or me just _tasting_ you," he continued, tapering off into a low groan as he began to set a steady pace. "I'm barely keeping it together as we speak. I've been wound up like a watch spring over you for _weeks._"

You threaded your fingers through his white hair, tugging loosely at the back of his scalp. The rumble that he responded with almost shocked you.

"Fuckin' _pull it_, princess," he growled.

You made the mistake of obliging him.

The noise that came from him was absolutely inhuman. He set a bruising pace, gasping as you tightened your grip in his hair beyond what you thought would be unbearable. Curiosity would be the death of you; raking your nails over the back of his neck and down his spine was like pouring gasoline on an open flame. 

"I can only be sweet for so long," he huffed, his voice strained. "Like I _really_ tried--"

You scratched a trail down his sides, a little harder this time, and he took the hint. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you wouldn't walk straight for a couple days when he was done with you but if you were being honest, this was exactly what you wanted. The foreplay was nice and surprisingly considerate of him, but the scenarios that had played out in your head for the past several weeks weren't exactly slow sex on the beach. It absolutely was not Dante to be anything other than rough and rowdy. 

"I said I wanted you to fuck me through the floorboards," you reminded him. You were surprised you were able to form a sentence at all -- the pressure building deep in your core, that delicious _ache_ was consuming you. 

"You really don't want that. Not tonight."

"Dante--"

"_Fine_."

You barely registered him pulling out just long enough to flip you onto your stomach, his hands yanking your hips up to his with a force that pushed the breath out of you. He plunged into you hard, one hand curling around your throat to arch your upper body back toward his. Teeth rasped over the back of your shoulders as he snapped his hips against yours.

He took every liberty in marking your skin. You knew something about seeing his bruises scattered across your upper back would drive him wild the next time you wound up in his bed and there was no question of _if _you would or not. Only when. 

The new angle hit every button imaginable. The feeling of his fingers curled around your throat, the sharp sting of teeth on your skin, all of it pushed you right back over the edge and you found yourself shuddering beneath him as you dissolved into your second orgasm. He made an attempt to quiet your keening by slipping two of his fingers into your mouth, encouraging you to suck with everything you had left in you, but the stutter in his pace told you he wasn't far behind you. 

His last few strokes were brutal. You were an inch from being over-stimulated when you felt him snatch the back of your hair, arching you up toward him as hot cum painted your back and the curve of your ass. 

"There," he sighed, dropping to the mattress beside you. "One deflowered damsel. Really wish you could see my work back there, it's beautiful if I must say so myself."

"You are absolutely awful," you said. You could only manage a breathless laugh, struggling to reorient yourself to reality. "Were you really trying to be gentle earlier or was that just an act?"

"I really, really wanted that to go a lot more...calmly. I didn't want to hurt you. But then you went and pulled my hair and I just can't handle that."

"Is that your little kink? Hair pulling?"

"I'll let you find that out. You can try it after we get a shower. Or in the shower. You pick."

"We...?"

He disappeared into his bathroom for a moment, producing a towel that he used to scoop you up from the bed without ruining the sheets. 

"I'm not done with you," he said, depositing you on the bathroom counter. "We've got all night and nowhere to be. If I don't get enough of you now, you're going to have to beat me back with a broomstick until the next time I get you alone."

Playfully, you hooked your legs around his waist, pulling him down into the sweetest kiss you could muster. 

"Don't break my pelvis," you teased. "I'm too new to this."

"I've got a couple of liability waivers downstairs cuz I can't make any promises."


	2. Strawberries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: would it be ok to ask for a male reader x dante or vergil either is fine but maybe some fluff that turns into nsfw?? or just fluff if you aren't comfortable w/ nsfw thanks

It was hot. Disgustingly hot. So hot that the air conditioner couldn’t keep up and you had resorted to lying on the kitchen tile, limp while a fan blew humid air back and forth in a feeble attempt to cool the room. 

You didn’t even raise your head to look up when Dante came home carrying a paper sack. 

“Damn. That bad?” Dante asked, collapsing into the floor beside you with his back against the fridge. “I even brought you a treat.” 

“It’s too hot to think,” you whined. You dragged yourself over to sit between his legs, weary, trying to avoid as much contact as possible. “I don’t even wanna kiss you. I feel so gross.” 

“Oh, it’s nasty out. But…” 

Dante produced a tub of Cool Whip and a small container of strawberries from the paper sack, pressing the cool plastic to your cheek.

“I figured this might help,” he continued. “It’s still frozen. C'mere.”

You inched a bit closer. Dante tried not to ogle your open shirt or the sheen on your face and neck, knowing that it was the heat and not his own doing, but your damp hair and skin was something that Dante had to forcefully restrain himself over. He bit his own tongue, pretending to fumble with the Cool Whip as you waited patiently.

Carefully, he picked a plump strawberry, dipping it in the Cool Whip as deep as possible without losing the little leafy top.

He didn’t expect you to be waiting so eagerly, chin tilted up and lips parted. _He knows,_ Dante thought, catching the teasing glint in your eyes as he placed the strawberry between your lips. Watching you take a bite and lick away the whipped topping was agony and you grinned at him the entire time.

“Not so wilted now, are we?” Dante asked, trying not to squirm when you dipped your finger into the Cool Whip just to lick it off inches from his face.

“I think I need a few more. Y'know. For good measure,” you murmured.

Dante was more than happy to oblige. He fed you another, and another, until several stems sat on the kitchen floor and you were nearly straddled across his lap.

The only thing stopping you was Dante’s death-grip on the plastic containers between you, still absently dipping strawberries as you leaned up to kiss him with half a strawberry between your teeth.

Tart and sweet, half-frozen, soft. Dante rumbled against your lips and abandoned the containers to let you slip into his lap, hands sliding beneath your shirt to tease you with cold fingers. He reveled in the gasp you made when he swept his thumbs over your hips, knowing his chilled touch was all but orgasmic in the suffocating heat.

“You little sneak,” Dante whispered, feeling your hands curl around his face tightly. “Here I was, trying to be sweet–”

“I’m just thanking you is all. I was on the verge of death, suffering from heat stroke…” you nipped his lower lip hard, “withering away…”

“Oh you were pitiful.”

“Absolutely.”

“You just wanted me to spoil you.”

“Of course I did.”

One rock of your hips was all it took for Dante to have you rolled back onto the kitchen floor, his hair falling around his face as he littered your collarbones with marks as red as the strawberries. You moved to thread your fingers through his hair but he stopped you, pinning your wrist. You laughed and tried with your other hand, pleased to find it pinned just as easily above your head. Dante’s hands were big enough that he could hold both your wrists without a struggle; you squirmed in his hold, just to test it, but you earned a warning bite in response.

“You wanna get spoiled?” Dante asked, grinding down into you roughly. “Behave. For ten seconds, just behave, see where it gets you.”

“I feel like we say that to each other a lot,” you gasped.

“Ten seconds just started over.”

“_Sorry._”

“Tone.”

You huffed, fighting a whine when you felt Dante’s fingers slip beneath the band of your jeans. You expected Dante to work them off as he always did and toss them somewhere, but you were shocked when only the zipper slid open and Dante dipped to kiss you so deeply you felt your toes curl.

“Does asking what you’re doing reset the timer?” you asked, your sentence trailing upward with a hushed moan as Dante skimmed his fingers beneath your underwear.

“Nope.”

“What are you doing?”

“I didn’t say I’d answer,” Dante said. “If I let go of your hands, you have to promise me you won’t move.”

“I…promise? I’m just suppose to lay here with them above my head like this?”

“However you’re comfortable. But if you pull my hair, it’s over.”

“_What’s_ over? You love when I–”

You gasped when Dante’s calloused hand wrapped around your length, bucking up into his palm with a desperation that made him laugh against your lips. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze; you knew you wouldn’t last a second if you made eye-contact. The way you keened at the slightest touch made him think you wouldn’t last anyway.

“Do you just lay around and think about me all day or do you actually work while I’m gone?” he asked, carefully working you free of your jeans as he released your wrists. “You’re so wound up. Were you just waiting on me to get back?”

You couldn’t answer. You were biting your lip, fingers tangled in your own hair to keep your hands off Dante. He nosed his way across your chest, leaving a trail of blistering kisses over your ribs and stomach, thumb making lazy circles against the underside of your cock.

He didn’t give you any time to question him. In one smooth motion he swallowed you to the hilt, relishing the strangled cry that fell from your lips. It was easy enough to hold your hips flush against the floor to keep you from writhing, furthering the urgency in your tone, and Dante could hear your feet sliding against the tile as you struggled to gain any sort of control.

Dante made sure the bob of his head was as obscene as the growl he let loose. It took seconds to have you panting and cursing, begging for Dante to stop before you came undone on the tile, but that wasn’t the name of Dante’s game.

“Dante, _Dante_, I can’t,” you whined, kicking at the floor desperately. “I’m already close–”

He slipped off with a dramatic pop of his lips.

“Already what?” he purred. 

The sudden stillness made you ache in ways that hurt. 

“You really think I’m gonna let you get off that quick?” Dante continued, reaching over to steal a strawberry. They were still incredibly cold, dripping with condensation, and the first bite peppered your hips with frigid sugar.

“_Fuck_,” you breathed.

“In a minute.”

He leaned down to lap up every little drop of strawberry, knowing his mouth was still cold. Every swipe of his tongue made you twitch until he flattened it against the bottom of your shaft, shifting only for a moment to reach forward and force you to make eye contact as he licked a slow stripe back up to the very tip.

“You’re such a liar,” you whispered, your breath hiccuping, skin burning from head to toe. “You’ve done this before.”

Dante felt your hands make a mad grab for this hair and he snatched them quickly, threading your fingers together and forcing them to your sides. You made a noise somewhere between anger and ecstasy, using this new leverage to bridge up against Dante, but there was no escape.

Not that you wanted to escape, but when Dante stopped again as you were teetering on the edge, you caught on. You pleaded softly with him, rubbing his sides with your legs as if that would really convince him otherwise, but then your cock was hitting the back of the devil-hunters throat and the world felt as if it melted away beneath your back. 

Again. Again, and again, until you were hoarse and tears welled at the corners of your eyes as you begged for Dante to take you on the kitchen floor.

Mercifully, he released your hands. The second your fingers tangled in his white hair you broke, arching off the tile like a man possessed as you spilled unintentionally down Dante’s throat. 

“_Ohmygodimsorry_,” you breathed, still jerking through aftershocks as Dante licked his lips with what looked like a grimace. “I know you hate that, I’m sorry–”

“I don’t hate it. It’s just…not good with strawberries,” he laughed. 

He sat back to survey his work, pleased when he could see shimmering beads of sweat dotting your body. Your shirt beneath you was soaked; the kitchen was still hotter than an oven, but Dante had never been vulnerable to the heat. You, on the other hand, were an absolute wreck but not from any heatwave.

Satisfied, he yanked you by the ankles toward him, smiling at the shrill noise of damp skin sliding on the tile.

“I’m not done,” he said lowly, rutting against you hard enough to make you both slide forward as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“I never assumed such. Can I at least return the favor?” you asked.

“Nope. You started this, babycakes.”

The Cool Whip and strawberries lay forgotten on the tile. You waved bye to them jokingly from over Dante’s shoulder, draped over him like a sack of flour, knowing that your fate was sealed as soon as the bedroom door slammed.


End file.
